The Young Avengers Initiative
by findingyouagain
Summary: "Your parents were meant for greatness, and so are you, young one." Growing up in the shadows of heroes and icons for not only the nation but the world is not something the Stark-Rogers children and their friends had asked for; however, it's not something they would ever change. Collection of one-shots for "Welcome to the New Age".
1. Just a Trim

**Summary: **Sarah Stark, eldest daughter of Tony Stark and Pepper Potts, drags her soon to be sister-in-law to get a hair cut.

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**Just a Trim**

"You're not seriously going to make me go through with this, are you?" The red hair which usually framed Winnie's pale face was tied back into a ponytail, resting over her leather-clad shoulder. Silence filled the November afternoon as a gust of chilled air brushed by the two girls. "Well, are you, Sarah?" she repeated her question, gaze flickering back and forth from the brunette to the glass windows of the store in front of them.

With a roll of her eyes, Sarah grabbed Winnie by the hand and dragged her into the store. "Yes, yes I am."

As the girls walked in, the smells of mixed berries—shampoo—and hair spray hit them. Winnie glanced around. Her green eyes homed in on the crystal mirrors, framed by what she believed was mahogany wood. The mirrors were lined up, hanging side by side across the left and right wall; in front of each, a white faux leather chair stood. On the back wall, four sinks and four more chairs stood. Bright, fluorescent lights shinned down onto the white tiled floor that a small blonde girl was sweeping clean of hair. Speakers that could be found at every corner played soft, pop music that Winnie would have recognized were she still in high school.

"Winnie," Sarah nudged the girl with her elbow, nodding towards the front desk where a plump woman with her black hair tied up in a bun stood. "Come on."

The redhead followed her friend, frowning slightly. Her thin fingers began to pick at the ends of her hair, twirling the stray locks and running her fingers through the tangles. The room seemed to have gone quite— silent even — as the two made their ways to the cashier's table.

Winnie stared at the cluttered table. Long forgotten receipts lay hidden under a small pile of fresh combs wrapped in plastic bags. Two blue Paper Mate pens were connected to a silver chain, one often found on dog tags, which attached the writing utensils to the mahogany desk.

"Ahem," Sarah cleared her throat, grabbing the lady's attention. She glanced up from her computer screen, putting on a smile.

"Can I help you, ma'am?" Her red-stained lips moved slowly, brown eyes scrutinizing the two girls.

Sarah nodded, red painted fingernail pointing back at Winnie. "Yes, I made a hair appointment for my friend over here. She's in a desperate need for a trim." _No, I'm not,_ the redhead thought, biting her tongue.

"The name?" the lady asked as she pulled out the appointment listings for the week.

"Winnie Hawkings at 2:30."

The woman's brown eyes searched for the name, her fingers hovering over page like a cursor over a Word document. She gave a slight nod of her head before closing the book and tossing it aside with the combs and receipts. "Ah, yes. I see it. If you follow me, I will get you started right now."

Winnie sighed and followed the woman to one of the sets of mirrors and chairs on the right, not forgetting on her way to look back and shoot a glare to Sarah. She didn't need a haircut, no matter what the brunette thought. Her red locks were just the right length to be able to do anything with her hair: put it up into ponytails, braid it to the sides, and fix it up into buns on the top of her head. So what if she had a few split ends? It wasn't like anyone at the gala would notice. Her red locks were going to be curled and in a side ponytail anyways, and her face would be covered in a mask as well. No one but maybe Sarah, Shanta, and Ian would recognize her.

She sat down, the white chair cool against her back, reminding her of the wind outside. "So, what kind of cut are you looking for?" the lady asked, grabbing a spray bottle of water and squirting Winnie's hair.

"Just a trim. I need the split ends cut off." _Or at least Sarah thinks I do._

"You sure?" Another squirt of the bottle hit her hair as the woman began to comb through it. "If you got it cut a few more inches and added layers—"

"I just need a trim," she snapped, crossing her arms.

The woman sighed, biting back a response. "Okay, okay. A trim it is." She begun to work, combing through the rest of the tangled red locks. Winnie's ponytail holder wrapped around the lady's wrist. The pop music seemed louder now, almost recognizable. Was that _Train_ playing over the speakers? It was, and Winnie began to hum along, letting the music distract her until she heard a _snip-snip_ by her neck.

She had to force herself not to jump in surprise. The hairdresser noticed the girl's rigid posture. "Don't worry, dear, I'm just cutting off the split ends. Nothing more than that." Winnie's body didn't relax though until three minutes later when the woman took off the black cape from around Winnie's neck. "You're done."

"Thanks," Winnie mumbled, fingering the slightly damp and shorter hair. She pulled the money out of her pocket and handed it to her. "Here you go."

The lady handed it back. "No need, your friend over there already paid for it."

The redhead glanced over at Sarah, who was leaning against the glass window, flipping through a business magazine she had brought from the Tower. "Of course she did."

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	2. Just a Dream

**Summary: **"Baby, why'd you leave me? Why'd you have to go? I was counting on forever, now I'll never know." The Young Avengers mourn a friend. AU.

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**Just a Dream**

**_ [Baby why'd you leave me?]_**

She sat there. Waiting. Watching. Thinking. Trying not to think. _Was it over yet?_ Was this thing that clawed at her still beating heart finally finished?

Blue eyes scanned the seat on her left, searching the other person's eyes for an answer. Brown eyes turned to her for split second before Robbie's hand found hers, squeezing it gently in comfort as he shook his head slowly.

_No._

Ashtyn didn't have the strength to pull away, didn't have the strength to watch the ceremony that played out before the cousins, their friends, and their families—because _he _no longer had one of his own.

And now they no longer had _him_.

_** [Why'd you have to go?]**_

The cold from metal chair underneath her sent shivers down her spine. _Or was that the funeral song playing in the background?_ Ashtyn didn't know.

She didn't know a lot of things at that moment.

Like the emotions that coursed through her veins—today and last Monday when the news came and all the days in between. Was it anger or grief? Confusion or acceptance? None or all of the above? Her initial reaction had been disbelief. There was no possible way he could be gone. No physically possible way in hell.

His powers—his mutant powers should have prevented it. They should have stopped it from _killing him._

_ Key word: should have._

_** [I was counting on forever , now I'll never know]**_

Distraction. That had been her main focus over the past week. Distraction. Distraction. Distraction. _Don't think about it. Can't think about it._

_Don't think about it—his eyes shining bright__, h__is lips on yours__, h__is hands in yours__, __his strong arms holding you close, keeping you safe and calm, don't think about it._

Distractions were easy. Simple. Kept her away from the pain and the constant tears that wanted to fall. They came in lots of forms.

_Books. Can't read that one. It was his favorite._

_Movies. No. I fell asleep watching that with him._

_Photos. Never. Photographs are always a reminder._

_Exercising. Uh uh. He would do that all the time._

_Sleep—yes._

_** [I can't even breathe]**_

Sleep would have worked. But sleep could mean many things: happy memories that made Ashtyn cry when she woke up because it was no longer there, nightmares where she imagined him getting shot at and beat up and **_ d e a d_**. She would wake screaming not from the horrors she had witnessed in her dream but because they were _**t r u e.**_

Astral plane. Ashtyn could roam for hours and hours on end there now. It was numbing. A breath of fresh air among the overwhelming feeling of lost on the Earth plane.

The blue there wasn't _sad_ anymore; the shadows there weren't _scary_ anymore. The emptiness was ironically no longer _lonely_.

**_ [It's like I'm looking from a distance]_**

Her mind wandered its way back to the scene before her, and this time it was her hand that squeezed and not Robbie's. She didn't dare look at the casket or the flag that was folded, ready to be handed to her cousin.

Instead, her eyes found Kat's—Kat who's eyes were hidden behind black sunglasses on the sunny Tuesday. _Why is it not pouring rain?_ The PA gave her a ghost of a smile from the very back of the funeral: one of comfort.

**_ [Standing in the background]_**

Her blue eyes move back to the front. Move but don't stay. She wants to leave. She wants this to be over. She wants to get out here and pretend this never happened.

Because how the hell could he just be gone? How could he have just died?

She doesn't understand. Ashtyn Stark-Rogers has slowly begun to realize that she doesn't know everything, can't make sense of everything, can't grasp even the briefs strands of every concept in the entire world.

_Then why are you called the Mentalist?_

**_ [Everybody's saying, he's not coming home now]_**

_'Cause he's not._ The ceremony comes to a close, and Ashtyn tries to bolt out of there as fast as possible. But Robbie's still sitting there, flag in hand, not moving.

And people are gathering around her, giving condolences she doesn't want to hear. Friends making there way to her to ask if she's okay. Other people pretending to have known the young soldier give out fake statements.

Statements that ring true, but are read off lying tongues. Tongues that could have saved _him_.

**_ [This can't be happening to me]_**

So, she scurries her way out of the crowd, mumbling soft apologies and "excuse me"'s before finding her fathers and dragging them back to the car.

They don't question it when she asks if they can make a pit stop before they arrive at the Tower. A pit stop to a small house in Brooklyn. A small house where a younger soldier used to live.

A young soldier who had—_Eyes that shone bright. __Lips that would kiss yours. __Hands that would hold yours. __Strong arms that would keep you close; __Keep you safe and calm._

It was empty save for the old photo she had dropped off the other day. A photo of him, goofing of with Robbie and Alice and Ashtyn. A photo of his smile.

A tear fell on the photo.

**_ [This is just a dream]_**

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	3. The (Spy) Boy's Back in Town

**Summary:** "Spies are known to disappear, right? They're known to have to leave on top secret missions without telling anyone where they were going, why they were going, and when they were going. That was to be expected, right?" Alex Rider, close friend to the YA, disappears. AU.

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**The (Spy) Boy's Back in Town**

Spies are known to disappear, right? They're known to have to leave on top secret missions without telling anyone where they were going, why they were going, and when they were going. That was to be expected, right? Or was Ashtyn the only one under that misconception?

When Alex had disappeared, Ashtyn was the only one keeping a level-head as usual. She assured the group, mainly the Rhodes siblings that the blonde would be back in no time. No time at all. He probably was just called on for some super secret mission by the MI6 and would be back in a few days, a week at most.

Sooner than she had been back from her little trip to Texas.

Ashtyn, however, was wrong.

Days passed and turned into weeks. There was no sign of Rider.

"Must be a longer mission than I thought."

Weeks passed and turned into months. Still no a sign. Not even a postcard.

"A really, really long mission?"

And when months passed and turned into a year, Ashtyn finally gave up on the whole mission facade. But no one could really blame her, she wasn't always the realist. Sometimes, when no one else was, she was forced to be the optimist.

This had been one of those times.

Ashtyn really didn't know what to do. She and Spy Boy had never been close, but when you share your Cokes with someone, you form a bond. A bond that basically said, "Hey. You're pretty cool. Don't die or disappear, okay?"

So, Ash tried her hardest to track Alex down. She went through SHIELD with the help of Andrew. She had JARVIS run as much surveillance and tracking down as the computer AI could handle. But there was no such luck in finding the blonde.

Three years later, the group had somewhat parted ways. Well, parted ways as much as a group full of teenagers who were somewhat related could. They only really talked to each other when it was the holidays or one of their birthdays.

None of them had actually realized how much the Spy Boy had brought the group of misfits together in the short time they had known him.

Anyways, Ashtyn had been in the lobby of Stark Tower, getting ready to head over to Andrew's for the evening when a face she hadn't seen in a long time strutted through the doors.

She tilted her head, mouth open agape, eyes wide. "Spy Boy?" She shook her head in an attempt to get her thoughts together. "Rider, what the hell are you doing here and where have you been?"

The brunette stormed over to him, arms crossed. "Do you know how worried sick we've all been? How worried Alice has been?" When there was no answer she repeated the question. "Do you?"

A slight nod of the head. She sighed. "Well, then why…Gods, I sound like my parents when I got back." She gave him a small smile. "Never mind all that. You can explain after I get you a Coke. And a haircut. No way am I driving you all the way to the Rhodes house to see Alice with you looking like you just got through with living in a forest for three years."

"You didn't live in a forest, right?"

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	4. Mickey Mouse, Glitter, and Beanies

**Summary: **Obsessions are a common thing among the Rhodes household.

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**Mickey Mouse, Glitter, and Beanies**

Carol tied her blonde hair back into a bun, watching her daughter stumble around the small living room from her spot next to the kitchen counter. The smell of meat sauce flittered through the air. She let out an annoyed sigh as she heard the small tyke yell out, "Mickey Mouse! I wanna see Mickey Mouse!"

_And I thought glitter and beanies were bad. Guess I was wrong. _

"Okay, Charlee, but I'm a bit busy making dinner. How about you ask Robbie or Alice to put it on for you?" she called back, stirring the spaghetti noodles in the pot. James, who had been out all day helping Anthony with some new project, would be home soon, and this had been the one night she had decided to cook dinner for the family of five.

"Wobbie's busy making kissy faces wit' Audwey."

Charlee came running into the kitchen, pulling at her mother's leg. The dim kitchen lights, softly illuminated the girl's blonde hair, matching her mother's despite the fact that there was no genetic relation between the two. "An' Alice is playing wit' Lex."

Releasing another sigh, Carol nodded and put the DVD into the machine and pressed play before resuming her work in the kitchen.

"You're a much better parent than your father was, you know?" James remarked as he leant over her shoulder to see what his wife was cooking.

"I hope so."

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	5. Bad Dreams for Spiderpig

**Summary: ** "Hey, Jude. Don't make it bad. Take a sad song, and make it better." Mayday has a nightmare while spending the night at her aunt's. Future!Verse.

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**Bad Dreams for Spiderpig**

Ashtyn had just finished putting the twins to bed when she heard her niece scream from the other room. Mayday and Benjamin had been spending the night at the Wilde's house while Peter and MJ had been on vacation, and although having all four of the kids at the house had been a handful, it hadn't been as bad as the woman had expected.

Rushing out of the room and towards the shrill scream still piercing the house, Ashtyn silently hoped it didn't wake up the toddlers. She walked into the guestroom where May was staying, finding the young teen twisting and thrashing underneath the covers.

"May? Mayday, sweetheart?" Ashtyn called out to her, gently shaking the girl's shoulders. "Wake up. Wake up, it's just a dream."

Eventually, the girl came to and upon seeing her aunt, she grabbed Ashtyn into a hug, softly crying into her shoulder. Ashtyn gently rubbed the girl's back, trying to soothe May.

"It's okay, sweetheart. It's okay." When that didn't work, she turned to the only thing that had calmed her down after nightmares back when she was younger.

"_Hey Jude. Don't make it bad. Take a sad song, and make it better," _she began to sing softly. As she continued to sing, May soon began to calm down, her tears and sniffles subsiding. "Better?" Ashtyn asked and smiled when her niece nodded her head in confirmation.

"Good. Now get some sleep, sweetheart. I'll be in the next room if you need me."

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